


The Bow

by TheStrangerIsHere



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Bow building, Gen, Halt's mad about it too, I checked his dialogue in the books and this is within the realm of possibility?, I mean he doesn't really have much personality established, It's not even that yet, Just breaking open a log to build bows 'n stuff, Just stave prep, OOC Pritchard? Kinda, Ok but the first chapter takes place a year before the actual bow-building, Waaaaaaay too technical to be a fanfic but the next chapter will be more fic-like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28101279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangerIsHere/pseuds/TheStrangerIsHere
Summary: It was mentioned in "The Icebound Land" that Halt was building a bow for Will. What if this was a common tradition for Ranger mentors and apprentices to build their first true Ranger bow together?Halt had been Pritchard's unofficial apprentice for three and a half years. In secret they trained, and as Halt grew in his skills and quiet confidence, Pritchard watched with pride as the young man matured. Now, as he nears the beginning of his fourth year, Pritchard has decided to begin the first step of one of the most cherished Ranger traditions: building the apprentice's first longbow.
Kudos: 9





	The Bow

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really sure I was going to post this, but here's a really technical (but not necessarily accurate in every case) story about Halt building a bow. From scratch. The first chapter doesn't actually have any bow-building yet, it's all just stave preparation.
> 
> The second chapter (when I finish it) will be filler, mainly Halt's brother and sister reflecting on how Halt has changed recently, pondering what secret he's hiding. The third chapter will be the actual making of the bow.

“Halt, come over here.” Pritchard called from beneath the roughly thatched canvas that covered his head. He stood in his workshop-- rather, it was a hut, considering the way that it leaned against his cabin. It was constructed of one large wooden board, about a meter in height at the far end of the shack, with a roof constructed of branches woven together held by a glue made from horse sinew, that connected to the side of Pritchard’s cabin at about a 120 degree angle. It was roughly 2 meters in length, barely enough to contain his workbench, a small rucksack of materials and tools, and himself. The shack was open at the front and back, allowing room for a large pile of scrap wood, logs, and tree staves to rest behind the cabin, and a small wood-chopping block sat in front of the cabin that Halt was currently using.

Halt paused, glancing over at Pritchard before he finished splitting one of the logs in two. Then, dropping the axe, he walked over, and ducked underneath the branches of the thin roof to come in alongside his mentor. In the squashed space of the hut, he leveled an unimpressed look at Pritchard, one eyebrow slowly rising.

Pritchard chuckled. He had clearly been a good influence on the boy, whose previously quiet demeanor had grown under his watchful eyes into something a bit rougher. The eyebrow raise in particular was becoming a quick staple of Halt’s “look of judgement”.

He turned, walking out to the backyard that contained the numerous planks of wood staves and logs, before pulling a large hickory-wood log towards the workbench. The log itself was about six feet long, with a diameter of 7 inches. The ends had already been sawed off, revealing tan and red-orange rings in the wood. It was a straight log, with few knots or twists in the wood, the grain ran straight down the length without any major twists or warping.

“So, what’re we going to do with that?”

“Why, my dear boy, we’re going to build you a bow.” At Halt’s bewildered expression, Pritchard’s mouth twitched up in a small grin.

“But I’ve already got a bow. The recurve one you gave me last spring.”

Pritchard nodded. It was a good starting bow for apprentices, and Halt’s accuracy with the recurve would have surpassed most ordinary apprentices. But it had been a year, and things were changing. Pritchard wasn’t quite sure what, but he could smell it on the breeze, and with Halt’s steady growth into a young man, Pritchard estimated about a year before Halt would need this new bow if he was to continue to advance his skills as an archer.

“It’s almost time for you to get a Ranger’s bow, Halt. And this one, well, you’ll be making it.” Halt gaped, an uncommon expression for the stern young man, and Pritchard gestured to the stave.

“As you can see, I’ve already begun to prepare the log. We have the tools you’ll need in the rucksack.” He gestured towards somewhere vaguely behind him, and Halt stepped past Pritchard to grab the bag.

“Good. Now, you see we have two different wedges, and a hammer.” He pulled one long, thin wedge from the pack and showed it to Halt.

“This here is what we’re going to use to start splitting the log. We’ll position it on the face of the end of the log, in such a way that when you swing that hammer there, it’ll start the split straight down the log, cutting it in half. You’re going to do that until the wedge is nice and deep, and we can clearly see the split down the wood.” He then pulled out a much thicker, blunter wedge, and presented it to Halt.

“This’ll go inside the seam, and you’ll hammer at that a bit. We’ll continue until the log is fully split, then we’ll split the halves into quarters, doing the same thing all over again.” Pritchard glanced at Halt, looking to see if he understood. The apprentice nodded, hooded eyes staring at the wedge in his hand. Halt then reached over and pulled the hammer towards him.

“Shall we get to work?”

  
  


Halt and Pritchard spent the most of an hour splitting the log. Pritchard placed the thin wedge and Halt swung, nailing it into the wood, and Pritchard stepped back to let his apprentice hammer the wedge deeper until the crack of the wood echoed amongst their yard. He then placed the thicker wedge, hammered, splitting it deeper and deeper, occasionally flipping the log to keep a clean, even separation down the entirety of the log.

Once the log had been split into fourths, Pritchard showed Halt how to remove the stave from the heartwood. The hickory had a thick crust of bark, then a light tan colored wood closest to the bark layer. That was the sapwood, and it would compose the majority of the stave. The rest of the darker, red-orange colored wood that went from the sapwood layer to the very center of the log was the heartwood. They placed the wedge parallel to the curve of the bark, just a little below the bottom of the sapwood layer. Hammering the wedge down into this and splitting the stave evenly along the log kept a thin layer of heartwood on the bottom of the stave for added elasticity.

It was nearly sundown when they finished, small streams of twilight filtering through the wood that surrounded their cabin. Halt was muddied, sweaty, and panting with the exertion; it wasn’t unlike his Ranger training, just far more monotonous.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Pritchard looked towards Halt and grimaced.

“You look like some Scandian wild-child. Better head on back to your palace and clean up.” Halt nodded, exhaustion keeping him from speaking further. It wasn't that the log splitting had completely exhausted him, but that on top of his typical Ranger training was more than enough to silence the young man.

“When should I come back to finish it?”

“Come back…” Pritchard paused to consider. “...in a year.”

“WHAT?!”

“Sorry, come back tomorrow for your Ranger training. We’ll continue the bow in a year.”

“Why? Why can’t we just resume the bow tomorrow?”

“I need time to air dry the stave before we begin. Seasoning it takes time, and a year or so should be appropriate for it to reach the desired moisture content. Six to eight percent is what we want.” Halt nodded, his normally stern face shadowed with resignation. He frowned, glancing towards the side of the yard that contained a wide variety of logs and seasoned staves. Halt’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he shot a look back towards Pritchard.

“Why didn’t we just use one of the staves you already have made?”

Pritchard sighed, hand coming up to brush back silver hair specked with splinters and wood. “To be honest, I thought it might be better to have you make the bow entirely from scratch. You’ve not quite reached the size or strength this kind of bow requires, and it should be ready to finish by the time you’d be in your last year as a Ranger apprentice, which will give us time to ease you into using a proper longbow instead of your recurve. In the meantime, we can work on some strength training to make sure you’re prepared.”

Then the older ranger smiled, and guided Halt out of the shack, brushing some bark from the shoulder of the young man.

“Better be off then. Don’t want your father coming after me with the rest of the guard. You’ve been gone a bit longer than you normally are, the whole castle’s probably searching for you by now.” Pritchard chuckled good naturedly at Halt’s ensuing glare, and the younger man darted around to gather his belongings. He threw his mentor a wave over his shoulder and loped silently away from the cabin.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of these characters. All characters were created by John Flanagan.  
> Here's the sources I used for stave preparation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_bJe4CYo-A
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjyN5gCGVs0&list=LL&index=1&t=722s
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTttXQkgOwM
> 
> http://traditionalarchery101.com/woodseasoning.html
> 
> http://www.primitivearcher.com/smf/index.php?topic=58727.0


End file.
